Harvesting
by moot3100
Summary: You know the tale of the Onceler, and how he chopped down all those trees for his own gain. But no one knows what happened after that. I don't mean when he got old, I mean when he realized he messed up. No one knows: but me. This is the tale of his search for UNLESS, and I assure you, it's a heck of a doozy. (Onceler x Reader, Onceler/Reader. Rated T 'cause Oncie's cute.)
1. Chapter 1

_Beep beep. Beep beep._ The melodious song of my alarm clock blared beside me, the mere volume of the sound shaking the nightstand. With squinted eyes, I fumbled around in the darkness for my glasses. I pushed them up the bridge of my nose and looked at the time. Six in the morning. Whoopdedoo.

Silencing the noisy device, I stood, running a hand through my messy (h/c) locks. _I hadn't intended to get up this early, especially on a Saturday! I hadn't intended to get up this early, especially on a Saturday! _I thought to myself tiredly.

For the past few weeks, I'd been working tirelessly to care for my truffula farm. These eerie-looking clouds have been floating by lately, and all of the neighboring farmers down south have been warning me about the killing of trees.

"'Truffula tree killings? Who would do something like that?" I had asked a now unemployed harvester. He was silent for a second, palms damp and eyes darting left to right. Gulping hard, he cracked.

"J-Just look out for a man in green, okay? The man in green," he repeated, and then quickly ran away. Weirdo. I shrugged off his warning and got back to work. Worry is only for those who can afford it, and I definitely didn't have a dime to spare.

Yawning, I changed into normal daily outfit: a black and red checkered shirt, worn overalls, and knee-high fishing boots. To say I looked drop-dead gorgeous is an obvious lie, but I wouldn't say I looked crappy, either; a few guys in the past have even called me kinda cute…Then again, they were at gunpoint… Whatever, the point is I looked rather roughed-up. But it didn't really matter: there were trees that needed harvesting. Tying my hair back in a pony-tail, I flung my screen door open and strode into the fields, a basket of tools at my side.

"Graaaaaciiie~ Gracie, where are you?" Weaving through the truffula plants, I called the name of my little pet bar-ba-loot. Originally, I had purchased her to chase away the *sneeches that threatened my land (Those darned cretins haven't left me yet!), but as the years went by, I grew more and more attached to the little fuzz ball. She was usually out roaming the meadows and wreaking havoc at the crack of dawn, so it was only natural for her to be out.

But she didn't respond. No call or anything. Thinking she was probably out messing with the humming-fish again, I decided to tend to the other trees. She'd turn up sooner or later anyway, no need to stress about it.

I kneeled down at the foot of my oldest truffula tree, noting with awe how despite its age, the stripes were as vibrant as ever. With an expert eye, I inspected how full and wispy the blue tufts were. _Ready for harvesting, _I mused. Reaching into my bag, I retrieved rubber gloves and hedge clippers. Slipping on the gloves, I snipped away at the tree with the clippers, careful to catch the tufts in the basket. I couldn't help but grin like a doofus while I worked.

The other farmers didn't know it, but truffula tufts could be used for several good things: In medicine, for slings, even as underwear! And the way I cut them allowed the beautiful trees to continue living without harm. Just that thought brought a smile to my face. By the time I was finished, a skinny, bare truffula was left in the other's place.

Just as I was moving on to the next one, Gracie bounded up to me, **barking like mad. Lowering the clippers, I met her halfway, petting her head comfortingly.

"What's wrong, girl?" Eyes like saucers, Gracie shook violently, clinging onto my leg. The look she was giving me suggested that something was out there just wasn't right, and whatever it was, it scared the hairs off of the poor little bar-ba-loot. Bundling the creature up in my arms, I made my way toward the direction Gracie had come from. Anything that could scare my little pal had to go.

I had to go down a hill, to the very edge of my property. I noticed with mild anger that the more I descended, the blurrier my specs got. The stench of smog permeated my clothes and lungs, almost to the point of making me cough. _Whoever's doing this is straight up disgusting! _I soon approached a large, gas-guzzling super truck, a hat-clad man sitting cross-legged beside it. Any other day, it would have been semi-normal. This was no ordinary man, however.

Along with his fashionable magician's hat, he wore a green suit with matching gloves, as well as a rather expensive-looking pair of boots, much more pricey than mine. He also had this silky, ebony hair that fell freely over his eyes, which were a bright green as well. He wore a down-in-the-dumps frown, but judging by his tell-tale dimples, I could tell he often smiled. All around, he was quite the looker.

As I stepped closer to him, Gracie began to squirm, pure terror evident in her eyes. With much protest, she finally sprung from my arms, running to the safety of our home. The fancy stranger looked up at me, eyes half lidded and bloodshot, as if he had sat there crying all night long. At the sight of me, he quickly stood to his feet and dusted himself off, occasionally wiping at his rapidly-blushing face.

I crossed my arms and stood completely erect in an attempt to make myself look more intimidating. Handsome or not, this guy had freaked out my buddy, and that's just unacceptable!

"Hey there, oily stranger!" I began, taking a few somewhat confident steps forward. "You kinda spooked my little friend back there, so I had to come check you out…I-I don't mean that in, like, a pervy way or anything! I-I mean…" I sputtered desperately for something to say, my cheeks getting warmer every second.

The man chuckled, though it looked more depressed and bitter than it sounded. Finally, I found the right words to say.

"Who are you, and what are you doing on my land?"

The traces of a smirk grew on his features as he brought his oh-so-mysterious hat down to his chest and bowed lowly. Taking my (s/c) hand in his gloved one, he kissed the top, not taking his eyes away from mine. Staring at my astounded face, he chuckled.

"Call me Onceler."

~O~

After that…interesting introduction, Onceler and I went in to my house to talk things over some hot coco. As I rifled through my cupboards for clean china, he sat in a wicker chair beside a window. He mostly looked around, though I noticed his gaze would occasionally sweep to the view of the truffulas outside.

Balancing two cups of hot chocolate on a dinged-up platter, I took a seat across from him, handing him his beverage. He muttered a quiet thanks and looked back to the trees, only stopping to take a sip every few seconds. _This guy…he was so confident out there, now he's all quiet…What's up with him?_

"Well, Oncie," he cringed slightly at my nickname for him, "what brings you to my humble abode?" Bringing his hands up on top of the table, he twiddled his thumbs, making that depressed frown again.

"Nothin' much. Just realizing how much I screwed up the lives of millions," he sighed. Ouch. Sounds like whatever this guy did really sucked. Despite my desire to laugh off his misfortune, my maternal instincts kicked in.

Leaning toward him slightly, I tried to look into his bright eyes and smiled. "C'mon, man. I'm sure whatever you've been through isn't _that_ bad, and even if it is, all you gotta do is move on: I'm sure someone's done something way worse in the past anyway."

What I intended to be an eye-opening moment went unnoticed as he shook his head slowly, an almost pained expression on his face. All of my reasoning was abolished with these four words:

"I killed the trees."

Woah. To think that the mass tree-murderer that I'd heard so much about the past year was sitting a mere five feet away from me…Suddenly, it clicked. What that farmer had been telling me about…this was the infamous 'man in green'? It was kinda hard to see to be honest. How could someone who looked so innocent be so sinister? _Don't judge a book by its cover, _I reminded myself.

"I was just a dreamer," he continued, eyes glued to the window, "an inventor, moreover. I wanted to make something that everyone on earth could use: the thneed. It really is quite remarkable, if I do say so myself. The only problem is…it needs truffula tufts to be made."

He then continued to tell me about the Lorax and his whole UNLESS predicament. The whole time, I listened to him in an amazed silence, nodding and occasionally putting in my own two cents. To think that all of this had happened to him, yet he's been left so clueless…truly devastating.

"I've done all of this…these truly evil deeds, and have nothing to show for it. Now, I don't know what I'll do," he confided with a sigh. The room went dead silent for a while, the only sound being the steady clicking of the clock and my own heartbeat. Man, this was turning into a pity party…

Onceler's frown turned upward a bit as he changed the conversation. "I see you're a tree farmer. It's a wonder you haven't gone out of business like the others," he said looking again at the truffulas contorting slightly in the wind.

I couldn't help but puff my chest out in pride. "Me? Go out of business? Puh-lease! It's because I do things a whole lot differently than those other chumps!" A small smile graced the Onceler's lips as he willingly looked at me for the first time that morning. "Really? How's that?" He asked in apparent curiosity.

"Truffula trees are used for their bark as well as their tufts: everyone knows that. But there are already _so_ many people that use bark it's not even funny. We use'em in chairs, tables, houses, pencils—even in some dentures!" I gestured to my whole house throughout the rant, to which he nodded agreeably.

"The one thing that people often forget about is the tufts, and then they just have a whole bunch of tree stumps and furniture. What I do is grow the trees and—check this—_harvest _the tufts! It doesn't kill the trees, which means a butt-load of fresh air, and materials that can be crafted into virtually anything!"

The Onceler's eyes widened greatly at my explanation, but the expression left as quickly as it came. Wearing an unreadable expression, he stood, thanked me for the drink, and walked out my front door…WHAT!?

I sat completely still in my seat for awhile, still staring at the seat he had been occupying just seconds ago. In all honesty, I had been going through a blur of emotions since his departure. I was angry that he'd left me without a reason, yet I was also really saddened by it. He didn't have to go through all of this…If he had just figured out how to harvest. If only._..If only I had met you before…._

My train of thought was interrupted by an ear-splitting shriek from the valley. Grabbing a coat, I dashed out the front door, following the sounds of what I guessed was a woman's call for help. Coming to where the Onceler's truck was parked, I saw something that made me want to laugh hysterically and piss myself at the same time:

Gracie's 300-pound father was sitting in the driver's seat—his mouth is full of marshmallows, mind you—and he was swiping and growling playfully at the Onceler, who had his butt stuck in the window…. WTF much?

It took all of my strength not to keel over in laughter. Putting on my game face, I knew I had to calm down the bar-ba-loot before I even thought about doing anything else. Making small, quiet steps, I made my way over to the beast, softly stroking his mangy fur.

"Hey there, big guy! Long time, no see," I cooed, to which he nodded amiably. "Say, you think you could get outta my new pal's truck? He's a bit of a knucklehead, but I think he's had enough punishment already."

The bulky bar-ba-loot stared at me blankly for a second, then looked to a frantically-squirming Onceler, smiled, and got out of the truck, the contraption screeching in protest of the lost weight. He landed on the ground with a thump, gave me one last knowing glance, and waddled his way into the forest. Great, I just had one job left: pull the Onceler out of the open truck window. _Wait…which side do I pull?_

Uh-oh. It looked like I had a few options:

1. Pull him by the hindquarters. I'd get the best grip there, and _dang, _what a view!

2. Pull him by his arms. It could work, but I might dislocate his shoulders.

3. Pull him by his calves. It would definitely work, but he'd probably end up sitting on me when I popped him out…I no likey.

It seemed like choice one was the most probable. Blushing furiously, I stood behind him.

"H-Hey, dude. I'm gonna get you out soon, but you need to stay still. Just…bear with me hear, alright?" He obeyed my wish, going borderline limp after I asked. Taking a deep breath, I seized him by his slender hips and pulled. Looking back now, I'm pretty sure my hands were shaking like mad as I heaved him through. When the truck door finally gave, the Onceler flew backwards into my lap, and boy, was he a sight.

His formerly spiffy and pristine suit was sullied and disheveled, along with his hair and practically everything else on him. When he realized how close he was to me, he immediately scooted a few feet away, his breaths irregular and his face beat-red. Then again, he might've just been mirroring my actions.

"T-Thanks…"he said, trying to compose himself enough to stand to his feet. I snapped myself out of infatuation mode and stood to my feet, offering him a hand. "The name's _," I said with a genuine smile. Blinking rapidly, as if to snap himself out of some feeling as well, he took my hand and pulled himself to his feet. If I heard correctly, he repeated my name under his breath, as if to remember it. Like it was of importance.

I cleared my throat and turned to him, realizing what he had intended to do when he got in the truck in the first place: Leave.

"So…where are you going now?" I asked, trying in vain to not sound disappointed. "I don't know, really," he answered truthfully, looking to the truck's large wheels.

"I don't think I can call what I came from a home, and I'd die before I went back to my mother's place." I couldn't fight with that logic. From what he told me, his mother was a total ***wazbag.

I looked at the ground, suddenly very intrigued with the rocks in the ground. _C'mon, _! It's now or never! _I bit my lip and turned to look at the Onceler. "H-Hey, if you don't have anywhere to be right now, you could always…y'know…crash at my place?" It came out more of a question than a proposition, and I was about ready to explode. For real? I'm _that_ bad with human interaction?

I quickly spit out some apologies and 'if you don't want tos' and all that great stuff, when this guy starts laughing at me. And this is no bitter laugh like the others; it was a genuine, tinkling laugh that made me want huggle him to oblivion. He's so gosh-darn cute!

"You'll really let me stay?" he said, a hint of hope in his voice. I nodded happily. He smiled his heartwarming smile and enveloped me into a hug, one that I remember vividly each day. After a few seconds of the warm embrace however, it got really freaking awkward and we backed up a bit in embarrassment.

"Thank you so much for this, _. It really means a lot to me."

"No prob, beanpole! Hey, I might even be able to teach you a few things about the truffulas," I replied. We walked back toward the house side by side, a newfound friendship resounding deeply in each of our hearts.

And I don't think I'd have it any other way.

* * *

**Hello, interwebs! I recently watched the Lorax on Netflix and completely fell in love with the Onceler!  
He's just so lovable!  
Anyway, I'm known mostly for my Hetalia fics, but I plan on writing a few more Lorax-themed stories, so to the people already in the Onceler fandom, consider this a peace offerng of sorts from the anime fandom.  
Well, please comment and tell me if I got his character right or not.**

***Sneeches are these long-nosed, yellow bird creatures from another Dr. Seuss book.  
**Do bar-ba-loots bark? Do they talk? Meh?  
***The term 'wazbag' originally came from iCarly, but it had been an inside joke with my siblings waaaay before that. It's basically equivalent to a bladder. Eeeeeyup.**

**Stay beautiful, mah friends.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Like this, _?"

"No, you dope! Like this!"

About a month had passed since I last met the Onceler. This infamous villain had been known for slaughtering of the trees for both profit and other personal gains. Since his arrival, he had made smiley-face pancakes, practically inhaled three packs of marshmallows, and was currently helping me to trim a truffula tree, all the while wearing my frilly, pink apron. He insisted on wearing it to help keep away, and I quote, the "creepy crawlies". Isn't he in his twenties?

I was standing behind him, hands firmly planted on my hips, coaching/scolding him through trimming a truffula tree by himself for the first time. I've never had a kid, but I think this is a lot how potty-training a toddler is.

When I first told him we were gonna do some small pruning, guess what toll he picked? I freaking BATTLE AX, that's what! I mean, really!? After all my weeks of training, you choose a weapon over clippers? If I hadn't stopped'em, he probably would've gone Canadian lumberjack on that poor truffula.

Onceler was on all fours beside a young sapling of a tree, scrutinizing each of its features a little too slowly and a little too carefully. I'd have interrupted him if I hadn't gotten such a good view of his…back pockets.

His usually perfectly-gelled hair was ruffled and dirty, and his vest, shirt and trousers were caked in mud and other icky stuff (He had to ditch the green suit not only to work, but he insisted on burning it as a symbol of moving on. That night, the marshmallows we toasted over that fire tasted extra smoky. Mmmm, toasted marshmallows…).

After much mental debate, Onceler finally decided to pick up those scissors, lifting them shakily toward the tufts.

"You've got this," I encouraged, giving him a little thumbs up. "Just take it easy and snip. Take deep breaths, if you have to."

He gulped and nodded, extending his reach. I can't lie: I had to cover my eyes the whole time. He couldn't do it; there was _no way_ he could do this without either stabbing the tree or losing a finger. All I could do was listen and hope the wound wouldn't be too hard to patch up.

After several minutes of anticipating silence, I heard him say something I never in a million years would have thought he'd say to me about a tree.

"All done!"

…_What!?_

I uncovered my eyes to see a bare truffula trees, all the red tufts bundle in a rather proud Onceler's arms. I stepped closer, in complete awe of what he had achieved. I was expecting tons of fur left over, but after stroking the striped sides, I realized my (e/c) eyes weren't lying to me: it was smooth as a bald man's head!

I turned to the Onceler, smiling from ear to ear. "I can't believe you did it! A-And so easily," I praised, happily enveloping him into a hug. "You're a natural!" I felt a little heat radiate off cheeks as he hugged me back.

"Aw, thanks, _," he gushed, "but it's all because of _your _awesome teaching that I'm so great at this."

I pondered the thought before nodding, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Heh. Touché," I responded. Just as I was about to pull away, me and Onceler both looked down to the tufts smooshed in-between our chests…Crap, I should've thought of that before I glomped him like that!

Faces dyed a deep crimson, we awkwardly came together again, having to press against each other so the tufts wouldn't fall and get dirty. "W-Well," I stuttered, hardly choking back a fangirl-y giggle at the almost fortunate proximity. "this could've gone better, huh?"

He nodded in response, making an effort not to meet my eyes. "Yeah, but I bet if we work together, we can get this all the way up to your house. We just have to be a little bit," he boldly grasped one of my hand, "innovative."

I let out an extremely confused 'Huh?' as he placed my other hand on his shoulder, and his own large hand on my side. "Just think: what's the one sport that requires being pressed up against someone to reach a common goal?"

"I dunno, e-erm…rugby?"

"Wrong! I was talking about ballroom dancing," he smirked, inclining his head slightly to me.

"First of all, dancing's not a sport, you idiot," I said harshly, wanting to bop him on the head, despite my hand being tightly held in his. "Second of all…what makes you think I, a lowly farm girl, can ballroom dance."

He scoffed at me, pulling my body even closer to his (That's even possible?). "Well, we could stand here all day complaining, or we could actually get home while having some fun on the way. Your call, _."

I bit my lip, actually thinking about his proposition. "C'mon, I'll teach you how to do a simple waltz. All you have to do is follow my lead," he coaxed. Did I even have a choice at this point? Sighing, I rested my head against his shoulder. I heard him gasp, which only brought more joy into the love-struck teenager part of my heart…

Which is really weird that that place still even exists, seeing I'm in my twenties…

"People do this in a dance too, right? What next?"

He cleared his throat and started coaching me through it, constantly counting to three, stopping, and critiquing me, just to repeat it all over again.

"One, two, three, one, two, th-ouch!" I had stepped on his foot, probably for the tenth time that afternoon.

"S-Sorry again, Oncie," I mumbled, hiding my (s/k) face in the crook of his neck. He took a deep breath and chuckled. "No biggie, let's just get through this before the sun sets."

We went through the motions several times, and I had eventually gotten the hang of it. We had reached the tippitty-top of the last hill by then, night quickly approaching. As we danced, Onceler started to hum (f/s), my favorite song. He'd played it on guitar all the time at home.

As he got to the song's climax, he started to sing the lyrics—and sweet tree sap, was he good! I resisted the urge for as long as I could, but eventually I gave into temptation and started to sing along, too. We were singing, dancing, twirling fools out there that night, laughing at each other's stumbles or mishaps.

It was like we were completely separate from the world. So much so that we waltzed right into the house. And when I say we waltzed in, it's not to be fancy—we literally _waltzed_ inside. It was Gracie's excited barking that brought us crashing to Earth, making us spring away from each other in surprise…as well as all of the truffula tufts. Well, at least it was just the living room floor.

"O-Oh, sorry!" I stooped down and collected the dropped tufts in my arms and turned to the Onceler once again. "We had a pretty…eventful day, wouldn't you agree?" He chuckled and nodded, rubbing the back of his neck at the memories.

"I think I'll be retiring early tonight," I murmured, faking a yawn. As I stood and turned to my bedroom , Onceler grasped my shoulder, making me whip my head back at him (Remember that I've been living almost completely alone, hardly having any human contact. How does that person react to being suddenly touched?).

"W-What is it?" I questioned, trying and failing to not blush at the contact. Onceler hesitantly removed his hand from me, as if he'd missed the feel of my skin against his.

"I just wanted to say…you're a pretty good dancer _and _singer. I never woulda guessed it," he complemented, making his way toward the couch (He'd refused to take my bed and let me sleep on the couch. "It's just not the gentlemanly thing to do!" he argued. Whatever. At the end of the day, I still get air conditioning in the summer!).

I scoffed, as if asking if he'd expected any less of me and my awesome abilities. "Not too shabby yourself, Oncie. Hey, maybe you can teach me how to make one of those thneed whatchamacallits you used to make with the tufts you got."

"It would be my pleasure, princess. G'night, _," he called, wrapping himself in a cocoon of blankets.

"G'night, Onceler."

As I closed my bedroom door, sleep was the last thing on my mind. I paced around the room for awhile, thinking about this guest I had acquired. The first day I met him, he had looked so secluded, so depressed. Yet, in a matter of minutes, he had kissed my hand and introduced himself. That part had left him as soon as it came.

I noticed the same had been happening today, as well as other times in the past. He'd be all outgoing, like when he offered me to dance, then he'd get all shy! What's up with that? Which one is really him?

Sighing, I changed into a (f/c) nightgown and slipped under the covers, setting my glasses on the nightstand.

_It's alright, _. It doesn't matter how he acts. He's respectful, fun to be around, and a sweetheart no matter what!_

"Yeah," I whispered to no one, as if trying to convince myself this was true. That night, I slept fitfully with one thought plaguing my mind:

Who did I invite into my house?

~O~

_Beep beep. Beep beep. _My alarm clock sounded off the next morning, seemingly loud enough for the whole universe to hear. I really need to get a new alarm, don't you think? Maybe I'll get that one I saw at the shop that plays 'Gangnam Style', or the 'Harlem Shake' clock so I can at least jam out after I wake up. Decisions, decisions…

Anyway, I reached to turn off the ungodly device, when I feel something underneath the covers.

Movement.

This was no small movement, like Gracie squirming into my bed late at night. That was no biggie, and I would have felt her fluffy fur pressing against my legs if it had been her. What _was _a biggie was I felt HUMAN FLESH pressing against my sides.

_Who…how in the…WHAT!?_

I tried to remain calm, slowly peeling the cover back from my body. _It's okay, _, you're probably just imagining things. There's nobody in there, and you're just having a bad-SWEET MOTHER OF PANCAKES, WHAT IS HE DOING HERE!?_

The Onceler was laying in a t-shirt and boxers, cuddled-up beside me, using my tummy as a makeshift pillow. His tousled hair tickled my abdomen as he shifted, a content, almost blissful expression on his face. I bit my lip to prevent myself from screaming and reached across his still body, shutting off the long-forgotten alarm clock.

As I attempted to get out of the bed to pace the floors, questioning what I was doing with my life, a pale, lightly-calloused hand shot out from behind me, gruffly pulling me towards its owner. Onceler wore a devilish smirk, emerald eyes seeming to glint in the dark room. There was something about that look that really freakin' scared me…even more so than it turned me on.

Using my better judgment, I struggled against his grasp, but to no avail: that little wimp was stronger than he let on! I rested my back against his chest with a heavy sigh, earning me a dark chuckle in response.

His mouth moved to the side of my face, gentle breath tickling my ear. "Oh, _. You never cease to amuse me…" Onceler's hand ghosted my rosy cheeks, making me tense dramatically. By the time he had gotten a hold of my (h/c) locks, I was ready to beat'im to a bloody pulp.

"Too bad I hadn't met you early. You'd have been my best intern," he cooed. Slowly, he moved his lips closer to mine, not taking his green eyes off of my (e/c) ones. A bazillion thoughts whizzed around my brain as he closed in, trying desperately to focus on anything than what would come.

You might have guessed it from my distance from other farmers and, well, society, but I've never actually kissed anyone before. In fact, it seemed kinda gross, seeing as many people know it as 'Swapping Spit'. Yet, as the Onceler's breath mingled with my own, I started having second thoughts. _It can't be that bad if everyone does it, _I convinced myself. _Besides, people do it with the ones they love. That's what makes it special._

_Is this who you love?_

Before I could answer this question, Onceler jumped, as if startled, and ripped himself away from me with a girly shriek. Quite the atmosphere changer. I stared intently back into his eyes, genuinely confused. You don't go from kissing a chick to spazzing out like that. Then, I realized it:

Now, his eyes were brown.

Any other day, that wouldn't have made a difference. Who gives a crud about eye color, anyway? But…could this be why his personality would flip-flop from cowardly to courageous? Because of his eyes?

_...That doesn't make any…what…?_

I looked again at the Onceler to see him eying me even more than I was eying him, albeit shyly. "W-What is it?" I asked, still a little flustered from what had just happened.

I looked at me a little longer before his whole face went crimson. "I-I'm sorry, it's just…you have Care Bear underwear?"

_SLAP!_

* * *

**Muhahahaha~!  
Hello world, I am back with even more Onceler fluff!**

**If you haven't noticed, I have started to develop a bit of a plot in there, so this may or may not be the last fluffy chappie for awhile. :3**

**I don't know if you were expecting a lemon or something in here, but there won't be for three reasons:**

**1. I don't write lemons.**

**2. I don't know who or how old my target audience is right now. (Note that my Hetalia stuffs can get heavier because the show itself is rated M)**

**3. No one in my family knows I write fanfics, and if a lemon was the first thing they found on my account...No cookies for author-chan. And I like cookies. A lot.**

**((To Anonymous: Thank you for pointing that out, I felt like I had overlooked a few errors. Originally, I was going to write this X Reader in 2nd person, but decided to take the perspective of the reader and rewrote it. Looks like a few things came through, though. Thanks again for pointing that out!))**

**I do not own you or the marvellous Oncie. Please read and reveiw!**

**Stay beautiful~**


	3. Chapter 3

As you can guess, breakfast was very…awkward, to say the list. Pancakes were eaten in tense silence, the only sound being heard my rapid heart beat and Gracie licking her unmentionables. Every now and then, I'd steal a quick glance at Onceler, as if making sure his eyes hadn't changed while I wasn't looking.

_It doesn't make any sense, _I thought, grabbing the truffula syrup and pouring the murky liquid over my flapjacks. _How could that sweet, innocent Onceler I'd come to know suddenly turn into…that? _When he came to my farm, he was in tears...but which one of him was crying? The logical choice would be the shy, blue-eyed Onceler, seeing as that one seemed more in tune with his emotions (Maybe a little _too _in tune, if you catch my drift). And yet, I think the bolder, green-eyed version of him could have also been crying that night. _But why...?_

My thoughts were interrupted by Onceler clearing his throat. "_-_?"

"Yes," I answered eagerly, thinking he'd shed some light on what the flip just happened.

"Y-You're still squeezing the bottle."

Sure enough, I looked down to see the bottle still held firm in my grasp, a large pool of truffula sap forming a moat in the middle of my meal. I shrugged, licking some off of my fingers as I screwed on the cap. It'd take a lot to phase me after my little 'wake up call'. "Want some?" I asked him nonchalantly, offering the condiment to him. His cheeks turning slightly pink as he shook his head, looking away from me.

Yeah, this was going nowhere fast. _What if...he doesn't remember transforming?_ That was definitely something to take under consideration. It could be like MPD, where there could be even more little 'Oncelers' inside of him, just waiting to come out, and he won't even be able to remember what happened. In that case, what was the name of the one I'd seen this morning? It couldn't have been Onceler, he was the picture of innocence...sort of. _So, what should I call this green Oncie?_

Before I could think too hard on it, there was a knock at the door. Excusing myself from the table with a sigh, I went to the rickety excuse of a door, swinging it open and glancing outside. No one was there.

_Freaking ding dong ditchers... _I tried to close the door and continue my search for answers, but a floppy, orange foot stuck itself in the doorway with a grunt. Who did this grotty foot belong to, you ask? Well...I seriously don't know. I mean, I've been living separate from society for _years_, so I really don't know if that's a new species, or...yuck.

A short, orange...thing stood before me, spindly arms crossed over his barrel chest. And from the way his mustard-yellow mustache twitched every once in awhile when he glanced at me, I don't think he was that happy.

After staring at him for a few very freaked out seconds, the creature scoffed, glaring off to the side. "Well, are just gonna stand there and ogle me or are you going to let me in?"

"Ogle!?" you sputtered. "You wish, creep!" The little blob of fur blew me off, walking past me and into the house. Rude.

He didn't really _say _anything as he walked around, he just kinda _emoted_ at everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything. The color of my curtains, my potted plants. Heck, he even went up to one of the few pieces of artwork I had bought and went 'Meh'. That 'meh' was five hundred dollars, y'know!

Getting annoyed with the wierdo's critiques, I blocked the way to the kitchen, the one place he'd left un-judged. Hands on my hips, I glowered down at him, thoroughly pissed. "Excuse me, but just _who _do you think you are, waltzing into my house uninvited without any kind of explanation?"

He sighed, as if this whole thing was an inconvenience, then took a bow, a small smile pulling at his...hair? "I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees."

I crossed my arms over my chest, a little confused. "You speak...for trees? You've got to be kidding me! I mean, why would anyone do that? Do trees, like," I wiggled my fingers in front of him, "_communicate _with you? Are you some kinda tree guru from the mountains?"

"No, you idiot! When I say I speak for the trees, I mean I talk in their stead, hoping to keep them from being killed. Though looking at what's happened in the past few years, I guess I haven't been doing that great a job of it." He wore a frown that made even me feel a little empathetic for the guy.

Reluctantly, I invited the Lorax to sit with me, to which he immediately complied, throwing some of my yarn on the ground in the process. As he made himself comfortable, I couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable glances he made at some of the thneeds I'd whipped up.

"Hey, eh," he picked one up, holding it at arms' length from himself, "what exactly are you doing with _these_?"

"I've gotten a pretty darn interesting housemate recently. I found'em moping around my farm, one thing led to another, and he's kinda my new business partner, and that's one of our products." I sated truthfully, smiling slightly at the mere thought of the Onceler. It was completely obliterated when the Lorax threw the thneed to the ground, outraged.

"Hey! You messed up my-"

"Where is he?"

I blinked at his sudden interruption, a little bit taken aback. _Why did that tick him off? What's going on in here?_

I turned to see a door cracking open, the tall, slim figure of the Onceler stepping out, his strides certain but his eyes unsure of where to concentrate. The blue, passive orbs flickered from me to that orange blob, then back again. _"What should I do?" ,_they seemed to ask me. I responded with a shrug.

He gave me a nod-was it in understanding or an apology?-before looking back at the Lorax, eyes a lot less kind than they had been earlier. "What do you want, Mustache? I don't remember a prophecy about you coming back so early. Let me guess, the _trees _told you to?" He scoffed. Never had I heard his voice so cold.

The Lorax tensed at his comment, coming closer to the man with clenched fists. "Actually, yes, they did. I was on my way up into the clouds, and the trees just cried out to me, saying "The stupid Beanpole is at again! The stupid Beanpole is at it again!"

If I'm not mistaken, I think I heard a low growl come from the Onceler, his eyes flashing too dangerously to even be a color. With a nervous chuckle, I stepped in between them, trying to play Peacemaker. Not really because I didn't like seeing people fight (That's a freaking hilarious past time of mine), more because I didn't want to clean up the bloodstains afterwards.

"Oi, let's stop this now! I'm really confused as to what's happening right now, so let's all just sit down and talk this all out like the civilized adults we are. M'kay?"

Their eyes were still fixed on each other's, unwavering and full of anger. After a few more seconds of staring each other into dust, they took a seat.

_Alright, _I thought. _Time to see what the heck has happened to my life._

* * *

**Hola, folks~ It's-a been awhile.  
Sorry that this is a few days late, I was procrastinatin', (Plus, this is a bit on the short side compared to the other chapters. Bad Writer-chan, bad!)  
Let me explain what's been goin' down with me so far in the Fanfic Realm:**

So, I've been watching and rewatching a buttload of animes lately, and I recently rewatched Black Butler/ Black Butler II (Kuroshitsuji, for you fancy types) and I completely FELL IN LOVE with it all over again. I-I mean, there's the action, the jokes, the animation...and who can forget Sebby-chan? He's the only one who could legitimately bring a knife to a gun show. And, c'mon, let's get serious. There's no denying the obvious pairing. The one that everyone sees, but either loves or hates. The one that is the glue of the whole anime.

Tanaka x Sebastian.

Just look at all that unresolved sexual tension! He needs the steam to stay fully-animated because it reminds him of his ever-steamy lover, Bassy! NOW, SHOW ME THE DOUJINSHI!

Ahem, as I was saying: I've decided to write a fanfic series about this anime, so to those who care, would you rather see:

A) A Ciel x OC fanfic series. Cause Ciel needs more love-desu~  
B) A Sebastian x OC fanfic series. Cause, just look at that sexy beast. THAT is reason enough.  
C) A Ciel x OC x Sebastian fanfic series. Cause sandwiches are better than cheese and crackers.  
D) DON'T YOU DARE LAY A DIRTY FINGER ON MAH SHOW! I'LL LET YOU TAINT THE LORAX, I'LL LET YOU DIDDLE WITH HETALIA, BUT MAH BB IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED!

So...just let me know in the comments what you'd prefer, and I'll count'em all up sometime soon. (I've already written most of chapter 1, so it won't be a fic that immediately gives away who the OC will end up with. Of course, I have my own bias, but I'll put fluff in there for everybodies~)

Well, I don't own the Lorax, the actual LORAX, the Onceler, or you (hopefully).

Stay beautiful~


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